


tired eyes and aching hearts

by annafraid



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Joe Is A Good Dad(Trademarked), barry has. another nightmare :)), i dont know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 21:53:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6488854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annafraid/pseuds/annafraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every night, the world ends right before his eyes, and there isn't anything he can do about it.</p><p> </p><p>Barry dreams about the singularity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tired eyes and aching hearts

**Author's Note:**

> lmao thanks for clicking on this trash pile  
> i was. bored and this is short and it sucks

      The street is quieter than it normally is during these sorts of things, he thinks. Isn't the world supposed to end with a bang?  The road is absolutely torn apart, cars scattered everywhere, blood smeared on the sidewalks like cans of spilled paint. The copper smell of it mixes with the concrete dust and sticks to Barry's lips like the ashes of all the people he wasn't on time for.  He looks around, slowly, looks at the carnage, the absolute _devastation_ of it all, bodies and steel beams twisting around one another, looks at all the dead and dying in front of him; all people too far gone to save, and the realization comes to him in a sort of flash of muted colors: these people have just lost years. Years of weddings, years of  anniversaries and Christmases and birthdays and holidays and it's  _all because of him._  Someone he knows calls his name, too far gone to care about secrecy, and he shivers, because the sound is choked with something he can only assume is blood. He knows that voice; he's heard it every morning of every day for the past two years;  and he gives a sort of strangled, broken cry, spinning on his heels, trying to find him. _"Cisco!"_

He's almost too late when he finds him, hair matted with blood, and he kneels, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "Hey, bro," he says, softly, and Cisco's eyes flutter open a fraction. "I tried to stop it," he murmurs, looking at the sky, at the clouds of ash and smoke billowing above him, and Barry follows his gaze for a moment, looks at the wide expanse of grey, and his heart clenches at the thought that, more than anything, Cisco would have wanted to see a stretch of blue sky before he went. "Wann'd to say bye," he manages, turning his eyes to Barry. He stretches a hand up, struggling to peel back Barry's cowl. "Hey, hey," he rushes, pushing it back himself, pressing a hand against Cisco's face. "Stay with me," he begs, voice cracking, face scrunching up, eyes burning with tears. "Please," he begs, and Cisco just smiles and shakes his head. "We'll find each other again," he promises, looking at Barry, just as warm and bright as he remembers, and he stays with him until the light fades from his eyes. A sort of raw scream tears itself from his throat, and he jolts forward, burying himself in Cisco's chest. 

//

  "Barry!" Joe shouts against the door, for the fourth time, the fifth time,  before the screams finally stop. He can hear the covers shift before the door unlocks, clicks open, and Barry's sort of standing there, defeated.  Joe scoops him into his arms like he's done a thousand times before. "Shh, son," he says, as Barry shakes, nose buried into Joe's sleeping shirt, sniffling. "Who was it this time?" he asks, softly, and Barry tilts his head up, steps out of the hug, wipes his nose with a fist. "Cisco," he says, tiredly, and he knows he's not going back to sleep anytime soon. "Can you make some coffee?" he asks Joe, and he just nods, turning around to go downstairs. Barry pulls on a new shirt, splashes some water on his face. Every night, the world ends right before his eyes, and there isn't anything he can do about it.

 


End file.
